


When You Try so Hard

by spun809



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Jared is adorable, Mild Angst, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Self-Harm, comforting Jared, inspired by always keep fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2017-03-16
Packaged: 2018-10-06 01:14:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10322162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spun809/pseuds/spun809
Summary: You meet Jared and he gets to know the real you, the one you keep struggling to hide, but instead of leaving you something amazing happens.





	

Meeting Jared had been a total fluke. Walking in to the coffee shop, you were desperate for you afternoon jolt, holding a hand to shield your face from the sunny skies. You were so concerned with getting a latte you weren’t watching where you were going and smacked against something hard. 

“Argh,” grasping your nose, “why is this happening?” 

You were trying to keep it together but it has been a rough morning. Trying to see past the tears that were forming you could make out the cloudy shape of a dividing wall that you had smashed into. 

“Hey? I saw your accident there,” a guy was walking up to you and started shoving a napkin into your hand, “ I think your bleeding.” 

You took what he had given you and pressed it against your nose, when you pulled back you could see it stained red. So you put it back and trying to gain your bearings made your way to the bathroom. Eventually the bleeding stopped and your vision cleared. Since clearly the universe hated you, you decided you were going to go home and stay in bed forever, it had already been days since you had been out anyway. You heard a tapping sound and figured that whoever it was could wait to pee for another minute while you collected yourself. 

“Hi, I just wanted to make sure you were doing OK,” it was the guy from earlier. 

His concern helped you to feel a little better so you straightened your hair and dabbed off your face one last time before going back out into the lobby. “Yeah, I’m alright,” you said trying to meet his gaze but he was insanely tall, “anyway I’m y/n, thanks for the help.” You stated to head back over to the counter, carefully this time, trying to finally get your drink. As you were busy ordering you felt someone slide in beside you. 

“Jared,” the man said holding out his hand to you, “how do you feel about some company?” 

Shaking his hand you figured with those gorgeous hazel eyes, and long brown hair his company might be worth staying out for a while. 

“I’d love some.” 

He chose the table, it was as far towards the back of the place as possible, the light from the windows facing the street hardly touched it. It felt intimate. Soon you were trying not to choke on your drink as you sipped it between stories Jared told you. His whole demeanor was easy and light, he sat backwards in his chair wrapping his legs around the bottom, he was like a giant kid. 

“Well,” you stood after over an hour of banter, “I should be getting home.” 

His face fell a little, but recovered as he rifled through his bag pulling it a scrap of paper and jotting something down. Again, he wadded something into your hand, as he wrapped you in a welcome hug. As you pulled away you unfolded it, it was a phone number. “Please call me sometime,” his look was nervous. 

Trying to reassure him, you told him the truth, “trust me, I will.” After that day you had spent more lazy days chatting and getting to know Jared. He worked in television, that’s why he was in your area. They filmed nearby and he stayed for part of the year in a small apartment. He told you about his football team, where his family was from, and eventually he told you more. 

You couldn’t recall the exact day that Jared figured out your secret. There must have been a precise moment but you started noticing the small changes between the two of you. The days when he came to see you, and your face would still be red and puffed out from crying, or you wouldn’t move from your bed the entire time he talked to you. Crawling next to you he would play with your hands or show you funny videos on his phone. He never asked what was going on but he did enough when he saw you to let you know that he understood something was awry. 

Dragging your feet across the muted pink carpet, you winced as your passed by the window. Sunlight poured in, reminding you in the biggest way imaginable that you were yet again, at home alone in the middle of the week. It had been days of calling off work, and there seemed to be no end in sight. Your phone vibrated against your leg, and pulling it out you saw it flash Jared and some long line of text, you shoved it back in your jeans just wanting to be alone. 

Trapping yourself in the tiny bathroom, looking down on your arms, you saw the criss-crossing patterns of scars. The blade in your hand caught your attention as the light played off the metal glinting into your eyes. Holding your breath you told your self to stop, you weren’t alone, you didn’t have to do this. Pressing the tip against your wrist you saw a drop of blood well up there, hesitating, then there was a knock at the door. Trying to ignore it, you were torn at what to do, the pounding got louder. The metallic clink echoed off the sink as you threw it down tugging at your sleeve. 

Jared stared at you, his brows knit together, inspecting you. “I was knocking for like five minutes, didn’t you hear me.” 

“Yeah,” you opened the door but walked away not wanting to look at his face, “I was busy.” Even to you, it sounded like a weak excuse. 

“Your bleeding,” his tone was tight, so unlike the first time he had helped you with a wound. 

You glanced down at your sleeve, realizing faintly that you must have pressed down harder than you thought, there was blood dripping into your palm and staining your clothes. “Yeah I was cooking something, must have slipped.” 

He was running through your apartment, sitting down on the couch you watched him, everything seeming sort of fuzzy. Then he was next to you lifting up the arm of your shirt and pressing a towel against your wrist. 

“Please, just tell me the truth, I promise whatever is going on I am here for you.” 

It stung slightly, the scratch of the material against the cut. Looking at Jared bent over you studiously examining your sliced up arm, it dawned on you, he was telling the truth. And you wanted to tell him. As he cleaned up your arm, and you felt him carefully wrap some of the bandage you kept on hand around it, you told him everything. Crippling depression kept you stuck in bed, feeling the joy of being alive sucked out of you, the only time you ever felt anything real was when you cut. You told him about your family, your past, and all the while he just listened carefully. 

“I get it, you know,” he said after you had lapsed into silence, “there are times when I am supposed to work or do a scene and it just hits me.” It was there, with him crouched on your floor holding your arm delicately between his strong hands, that you felt like you actually knew another person. Not some front that a typical person puts on just to live in the world but knowing them deep down. You had a connection. After a while you both sat there quietly, noticing the silence was so intense you could hear your breathing, then Jared broke through it. 

“You know you’ve just got to keep fighting, always keep fighting.” 

You felt tears form, and slowly fall at his words, you wanted to fight because you saw that someone else could do it. You weren’t alone. 

There were dark days, times when he would be the one in bed, his head heavy on his pillow and you would be the one working hard to see that brief smile flicker on his face. Other times it would be you, he would come to your place and bring you dinner, encouraging you to have one more bite. 

After a while he asked you to move into his place, it was weird being so close to the set he worked on. He introduced you to his friends, his co-star Jensen. Suddenly you had friends, people who would come over just to talk even when you silenced your phone because it felt like too much. Misha would walk up to the place, jumping on bed with you and jostling you around until you would crack a smile. 

After dealing with being depressed on your own for so long, it was weird, being with Jared was like having a best friend and more. There were times when you expected him to get tired of you, to blow up when you had a bad day and took it out on him without thinking, but he always talked to you always communicated. 

You were standing by the door waiting for the minute Jared was supposed to be home. Everything was all set up, you had cooked dinner and were excited to share the big news, tapping your foot nervously you waited. 

As Jared opened the door, he jumped back slightly, dropping the small package he was carrying, “Woah dude, I was not expecting that.” He cocked an eyebrow at you as you stood still in front of the door. 

“I’ve got some news,” you were literally bursting to tell him not even caring that he had barely walked through the door. You could see him eyeing the table, it wasn’t a romantic spread but it still wasn’t an everyday occurance, “as you know I have been working hard in therapy, and tonight marks a special anniversary.” You kept plowing on, even though his attention was divided, “it’s been a year Jared, one year since I stopped cutting.” 

That did it, he turned looking at only you. 

“I know,” he said as he handed you the package, it was small and wrapped in a fairly jovial flower print pattern that had you laughing as you opened it excitedly. 

Underneath the childish wrapping paper, what you saw had you choking slightly, it was a tiny black velvet box. You knew what came in boxes like that. You just opened your mouth and gaped at him. 

“Open it,” Jared was watching your every movement. 

You complied and nestled inside was a glittering diamond ring, set in a white gold band, “what, is, happening?” You couldn’t believe this meant what you thought it did. 

When he got down on one knee though you started to cry, but for the first time in your memory, they were happy tears.

**Author's Note:**

> So thinking about Jared’s slogan on always keep fighting inspired me to write this. That sometimes it nice to think about how things might not always end so horribly and that sometimes fighting means you could have a future where awesome things happen. Anyway this is single!Jared for the purposes of this fic.


End file.
